Free Web NovelThere are two Jeong Dae-kyungs.
One is the Jeong Dae-kyung I know well.
He was a colonel, a senior officer in an elite unit guarding the Paju Rift zone.
A textbook elite from the military academy—meticulous, full of conviction, with an experimental and inquisitive streak.
He was in his late forties, and among his peers, juniors, and seniors alike, his rise in rank was remarkably fast—proof of his abilities.
I maintained a reasonably smooth relationship with him.
Although the Awakened had become the mainstream by then, he showed interest in old-school Hunters and was especially curious about the war front in China.
He was one of the hawks who strongly argued that war with China was inevitable, and he had a major influence on my decision to prepare the bunker.
“War is inevitable. It’s just the way it is. The Western world is hoping China flounders in the Rift and collapses. That’s why they send pointless food, medicine, and clothes, but slap sanctions on what China really needs—petroleum, precision machinery, electronics. The moderates may be holding power for now, but how long do you think that'll last?”
Being the sharp man he was, he also predicted Jeju Island would become the ultimate refuge.
After the war broke out, everyone called Jeju a paradise, but it wasn’t always seen that way.
Back then, people talked more about Ulleungdo.
Because Jeju had a Rift.
“Ulleungdo might be better. No Rift there. But it's closed-off and doesn’t have many outsiders. The island’s small, too. I heard from ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) a Navy friend how often Chinese fishing boats show up near Ulleungdo. Jeju, on the other hand, has a good mix of locals and outsiders. The Rift won’t be a problem. If the government evacuates to Jeju, they’ll manage that place no matter what.”
Jeong Dae-kyung, who had once guarded the Paju Rift, went on to manage the Jeju Rift, and I never saw him again after that.
He was always someone I kept a healthy distance from—more of an acquaintance than a friend or colleague.
One thing’s for sure—he wasn’t Awakened.
He wasn’t the right age for it, and he himself showed open disdain for the whole Awakened thing.
For a while, I forgot about his name, until I ended up in Jeju and asked about Brigadier Jeong Dae-kyung’s whereabouts out of curiosity.
Nobody knew who he was.
In the age of collapse, being forgotten usually meant you were dead.
Even after the Jeju government relocated to Seoul, the name Jeong Dae-kyung never surfaced again.
If he were still alive, he’d at least be a Major General or Lieutenant General. The fact that he wasn’t on any general officer lists meant he was most likely dead.
He had a wife, but they were divorced. He had one daughter and one son.
I heard the son had gone to study abroad in the U.S.
The second Jeong Dae-kyung appeared out of nowhere.
An over-level-10 Awakened opposing Kang Han-min.
That was the second Jeong Dae-kyung who suddenly appeared.
Who could’ve imagined?
Not just an unknown over-level-10 Awakened, but someone standing in opposition to the national hero Kang Han-min.
Unfortunately, Prophet left a cold message telling us not to come back and cut off contact.
Our only remaining source of intel was Woo Min-hee.
Woo Min-hee doesn’t like to talk about the Jeju days.
Maybe because she’s tied to some dark history she’d rather not revisit, but at her core, she’s just someone who stands in direct opposition to Kim Daram.
If Kim Daram is hyper-aware of everything around him and constantly drawing comparisons, Woo Min-hee is the type who only focuses on what interests her and ignores everything else.
That’s why the information on Jeong Dae-kyung is limited.
“Well, he always did his own thing. Each of us Alpha Awakened had our own teams. That worked better overall. So I didn’t really know much about Jeong Dae-kyung. I wasn’t interested.”
I asked what he looked like.
It’s unlikely, but I wondered if the second Jeong Dae-kyung could be the same as the first.
“I couldn’t tell his age. He always covered his face with something like a mask, said it was because of burn scars. But his voice? Total old man. Even the way he talked. People said he used to be military, but no one really knows. He was closer to the military side than our own.”
Though she spoke with disinterest, Woo Min-hee ended up revealing something unexpected.
“Oh. That guy.”
She scoffed coldly.
“He got along pretty well with Kang Han-min. They split up eventually, though.”
Kang Han-min is a tough guy to get close to.
He tries to maintain a friendly exterior with everyone, but deep down, there’s a wall nobody crosses.
To be close with Kang Han-min, you have to earn his attention first.
Like I did. Or Na Hye-in.
For someone like Jeong Dae-kyung—who wasn’t from the same school and had a murky background—to have been close with Kang Han-min... maybe he thought the same way Kang Han-min did. freeweɓnovel.cøm
As we entered the winding slopes of the Taebaek Mountains, the armored train Panokseon carrying us plunged into the fog.
Just as Prophet had predicted, the moment we entered the mountains, a blazing welcome awaited us.
“Hey, mind stopping the train for a bit?”
An unknown group contacted us over the comms, having deployed an impressive armed force along the slopes flanking the tracks.
They were residents of the Tunnel City.
Pyo Won-sang immediately stopped the train and brought a small squad to negotiate with the locals.
While Pyo Won-sang handled negotiations, we waited inside the train, endlessly hoping for his return.
The negotiations dragged on.
“......”
At first, I had no complaints about the division of labor.
Dealing with a bunch of abandoned, angry people is not just annoying and complicated—it can also be dangerous.
But people’s feelings change.
After days of tedious train rides, my mindset began to shift.
People need something to do.
Even back in the bunker days, it wasn’t just the internet—I stuck to my daily routine of patrols, guarding, small-scale farming, and resource scouting.
And now, this mysterious figure—Jeong Dae-kyung—had taken center stage in my mind.
I tried to dig up information through the internet, but he probably used an alias in the real world, because no one knew him.
Plus, in the provinces, unlike the capital region, large-scale cell networks were never really maintained. Cell phones were less necessary, so the ecosystem for upkeep and maintenance never formed. Cell phone penetration is much lower out here.
So getting intel from real people is more efficient than relying on the internet.
The problem is—how do I meet people here?
If a muscular guy with a rifle suddenly starts asking about Jeong Dae-kyung, who’s going to answer honestly?
Unless you’re overflowing with sugar or cigarettes.
At that moment, a friend appeared to ease my worries.
“Hey. Skelton.”
My spiritual partner, Captain M9.
“Think you could help me out?”
*
Even though the place ended up being filled with trash like Ji Young-hee, everyone still thinks of M9 when they hear about The Hope, Korea’s last luxury complex.
M9 is famous not just in Seoul but globally.
His fame even spread to the provinces along with the Necropolis broadcasts.
Sure, his crooked little series Digging Into Skelton added fuel to that fame, but a name-level guy like me doesn’t sweat the past.
Now M9 had a new project.
“I’m gonna do interviews with the Tunnel City folks. Listen to their voices.”
He’d always been interested in the kind of field journalism Reporter Guy used to do—producing content around it.
Of course, Reporter Guy didn’t actually go out in person—he just passed on information he got from his high-ranking government ties.
M9, on the other hand, is a man who actually moves his own feet.
And someone like M9 doesn’t look at just one side of things.
As a veteran survivor I respect, he always has a hidden agenda.
“Sharing news from down south is fine and all, but what really matters is information, right? You and I are both famous on the internet, and now we’ve got the backing of that Pyo guy, so people’ll cooperate with the interviews. The real goal of this project is to ask people what we really want to know while we chat them up.”
M9’s true objective seemed to be finding a second The Hope.
I had plenty of things I wanted to ask, too—and Tunnel City was interesting.
“What do you need me to do?”
Naturally, I figured I’d be the front man.
Even if M9 was name-level, I was the legendary name-level. No comparison.
But nope.
“Be my cameraman.”
“?”
“And kind of like, bodyguard too. I’m good at running, but not so much at hitting people. That’s just not my vibe.”
“......”
“Why the face?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
“Sigh. My naturally attention-starved friend. You’re sulking again. I can tell. Lemme whisper something real quick.”
He looked around, then leaned in close to my ear.
“You need to be more self-aware.”
“Self-aware?”
“C’mon, Skelton. You’re a super name-level nobody can handle, right? Right?”
“...I mean, yeah.”
“So hide your strength. Hardly anyone knows what you look like, right?”
“Hm...”
“No ‘hm’—just show yourself when it really counts. That’s the kind of heavy presence a super name-level should carry, right?”
“...Maybe.”
We had slight differences in opinion, but on the bigger picture, we were in agreement—so I decided to join M9’s new project: Captain M9’s Amazing Railway Report.
Naturally, we weren’t the only ones involved.
There was also a monitor assigned by Pyo Won-sang.
The monitor was a man in his mid-20s named Joo Seung-ho—earnest and reliable. He vouched for M9’s identity and would be the liaison to Pyo if needed.
“Pleasure to work with you. I’m Joo Seung-ho.”
Anyway, while the train was temporarily stopped outside Tunnel City, we entered the tunnel under the wary eyes of heavily armed locals.
As expected, the locals’ weapons were in rough shape.
Only a few had modern firearms—most carried outdated gear from old stockpiles, or homemade crossbows, handguns, even flamethrowers.
Inside the dark tunnel lined with railway tracks, we saw traces of an extremely rough life.
“This group calls themselves the Guild.”
Naturally, Joo Seung-ho, being from Pyo’s side, had some info.
According to him, they weren’t one of the three major factions Prophet had mentioned, but a reject faction pushed out during the turf wars.
“That’s strange. Isn’t this place more livable?”
To M9’s question, Joo Seung-ho shook his head.
“I don’t think so.”
This area is “still” un-eroded.
The powerful groups settled in regions already surrounded by erosion.
Of course, they don’t live in the erosion itself.
They occupy resistant zones surrounded by erosion.
A Shangri-La.
Whether those Shangri-Las become permanent or vanish like the others remains to be seen—but the powerful factions are watching each other’s territories like hawks from within their own Shangri-La.
Meanwhile, the leader of the survivor group we contacted—the Guild—was known not by name, but by the nickname “Dutiful Son.”
He’d boldly stopped the train, but as soon as negotiations began with Pyo Won-sang, he declared his intent to defect.
“In exchange for relocating about 350 people, including himself, to Seoul, he offered intel about the surrounding region and labor support. The deal was generous, but his expression wasn’t great. That ‘Dutiful Son’ guy was clearly aiming for a Shangri-La too.”
He was M9’s first interview target.
The man known as Dutiful Son looked to be in his mid-forties, wore cracked glasses, had a slight hunch in his back, and a dusky red tint to his complexion.
He also had a faint bad odor.
That odor hung in the air throughout the tunnel.
It hinted at a severe lack of clean water, soap, and hygiene products.
M9 started the interview.
The fact that someone like Dutiful Son—close yet distant—knew about The Hope and M9 reminded us that the forgotten internet still had potential for connection.
“For real. I saw it in pictures. How did you even live in a place like that? Seriously?”
“Ha ha. Hyung-nim, check this out.”
Ever the smooth talker, M9 was already treating him like an old buddy.
He rolled up his sleeve.
A wiry, strong arm—like a gibbon’s—was revealed.
“Whoa. This is the real deal.”
The interview continued in a friendly atmosphere.
I hadn’t introduced myself beyond “cameraman,” so I didn’t draw attention—but once the interview started, I realized I preferred it this way.
Captain M9 smoothly passed the mic to me.
“Oh, this is my dedicated cameraman. He said he had a few questions too.”
Not refusing opportunities is one of a Hunter’s virtues.
“...Um, I’m Director Eom.”
As Dutiful Son’s intrigued gaze turned to me, I brought up the real reason I was here.
“Do you know a man named Princess, Jeong Dae-kyung?”
The smile disappeared from Dutiful Son’s face.
That wasn’t a bad sign—actually, it was a good one.
It meant he did know Jeong Dae-kyung.
With a face scrubbed of expression, he bluntly asked me:
“Do I really look like a dutiful son to you?”
Not good or bad—just clearly hostile.
Only one answer was acceptable here.
I slowly nodded.
Dutiful Son grinned.
“I killed my own mother with my own hands, you know?”
